


O, Taste and See

by dogpoet



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-09
Updated: 2004-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 03:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because he knows Clark's secret doesn't mean Lex has stopped asking questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O, Taste and See

Lex lies on his stomach, head turned to his right, cheek pressed against the sheet. Clark sleeps, breathing steadily, a sound as comforting as the wind through the trees. He's facing Lex, curled up, naked, the way Lex likes him.

But Lex can't sleep.

Even after he's had a couple of mind-blowing orgasms, his brain can't shut off. He doesn't want to fall asleep and wake up to find it was all a dream. Their togetherness is still shiny and new, and too good to be true. The sheer wonder of it all keeps him up nights.

As much as he enjoys watching Clark sleep, Lex wants him awake. He wiggles his hips, shifting. Reaches out and strokes Clark's side. Clark murmurs something incoherent and his limbs tumble a little so he's almost lying on his stomach.

"Mmm..." Clark's sleepy voice. Lex loves it more than he loves his life. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I can't sleep."

Clark opens his eyes. Blinks. "It's my Christmas vacation. You have to let me catch up."

"This is what I'm talking about. Why do you need to sleep?"

"Everyone sleeps, Lex."

"You're not everyone." Lex sits up and switches on the light.

Clark squints, but then adjusts, all within a second.

"The same reason I need to eat, I guess."

"Hm." Lex pretends to scrutinize Clark. Or maybe he's not really pretending.

Clark gives him a bright smile. Tender. There are no secrets between them now.

Lex clambers onto his hands and knees and straddles Clark's back. Pushes Clark down until he's fully on his stomach. Feels for Clark's vertebrae, because he doesn't have x-ray vision and he has to use his hands to see.

"Okay, I have another question." Lex is in his bouncy mood, fueled by scientific inquiry.

"You have to stop waking me up in the middle of the night with this stuff," Clark says patiently. But there's affection in his voice and Lex knows he's not really irritated.

Lex runs a hand up the back of Clark's neck and sifts through his hair with his fingers.

"Why can you get a hair cut, but not a paper cut?"

"I've never thought about it."

"How can you not think about it?" Lex is quiet for a moment, scratching at Clark's scalp, massaging the skin. He lowers his head and kisses the very top of Clark's ear, then sucks it into his mouth. "It must be because hair is actually composed of dead cells. Your living cells can't be damaged, but dead cells like fingernails and hair can be." He examines one of Clark's hands, rubbing his thumb in circles on the palm. Clark's fingernails look identical to anyone else's. Little moons, lunules, near the cuticles. Strips of white at the tops. Lex takes one of these between his teeth and clamps down, as if testing a theory.

Clark pushes his hips into the mattress. Lex knows this behavior. It means Clark is hard, aroused, ready to be played with. By now Lex is hard, too, sprawled across the expanse of Clark's back, his cock cradled in the valley just above Clark's ass.

Lex raises himself up on his elbows. Beginning with his neck, Lex traces Clark's bones with his mouth, licking and sucking each section of spine. They had names, these bones, but Lex is beyond remembering anatomy lessons. Clark's moans and breaths feed Lex in action only. Not thought. His tongue moves of its own accord, without any direction from him.

When he reaches the crevice of Clark's ass, he pauses. This is uncharted territory. He doesn't know if he's allowed.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"Don't stop. Please." Clark grinds his hips down.

Lex takes a cheek in each hand and spreads them apart. Little hairs grow there. Lex touches them gently, then runs his finger down the crack until he reaches the pucker of skin. Clark whimpers softly. Lex continues down to Clark's testicles, stroking them with the pads of his fingers.

"So, when someone kicks you in the balls, it doesn't hurt?"

"What?"

Lex presses lightly. "Does it hurt?"

"No one's ever kicked me in the balls. But, no, I guess it wouldn't."

"You're lucky. It feels like twenty hangovers hit you all at once. Even if you're meteor-enhanced like me." He leans down and licks one of the sacs. Then works his way higher. Going against the growth of the short hairs. Feels them against his tongue.

"Oh my god." Clark's hips jerk. "That feels... Oh..."

Lex smiles. He loves reducing Clark to monosyllables. Or, better yet, panting.

"I want to taste every part of you." And then he does. The only part of Clark he hasn't touched yet. Hasn't tasted. The wrinkled skin feels soft and vulnerable. It resists, then gives. Lex works the spot, desire coursing through his veins like a hit. He wants to be inside Clark, but he doesn't think Clark is ready for that.

"Lex?"

Lex comes up for air. "Yeah?"

Clark turns over. "Stop. I want to see your face." Clark gathers Lex in his arms. Kisses him so sweetly, Lex's heart wants to break. Maybe even does a little.

Hot tongues, teeth, lips tugging and touching. So erotic, Lex could come just from this. He bites at the jutting bone of Clark's jaw, loves the hardness of it, the shape. The feel of stubble scraping his skin.

Their bodies move against each other in an instinctive rhythm. There's no planning, no discussion. Lex never thought it possible to communicate so fully without words. It's beyond physical. It's Clark telling Lex everything is going to be okay--it already is. There's nothing to fear.

Lex supports himself on his elbows, thrusts his hips against Clark, grinding their cocks together so hard it hurts. But he needs it. His whole body shivering and singing. Clark reaches between them and his hand is so big it can hold both of them, squeezing rhythmically.

Lex can't stop touching Clark, everywhere he can reach. Finally, he takes Clark's hand in his, lacing their fingers. And that's how he comes: intertwined with Clark, bound up, inseparable and indistinguishable.

He falls back on the bed, tired, at least for a while. Clark rolls over and snuggles up to him. Throws his arm across Lex's chest and Lex feels owned. For a few minutes, they don't say a word. Lex runs his hand up and down Clark's arm, conscious of every texture--smooth skin, soft hair. He tugs absently at the short hairs, and wonders about them.

Clark asks, "What are you thinking?" like there's an easy answer. His voice sounds sleepy and rounded.

"I don't understand. How can you feel good things like this--" Lex lifts one of Clark's hands and flicks his tongue along the wrist. Clark shivers and moans softly. "But not bad things, like being sucker-punched."

"Lex..."

Lex sits up. "In a human being, this would be a psychological phenomenon. A kid raised in a good family is immune to the bad things people do to him... But I think, in your case, it might be your Kryptonian biology."

"Lex."

"I wonder if the gene could be isolated and--"

"Can't you just accept it?"

"What?"

"That there are no answers."

"I want to understand how it works."

"You don't have to understand everything."

"Yes, I do," Lex says quietly.

Clark gazes up at him, eyes not quite open all the way.

"You have to have faith."

"God doesn't hold up under scrutiny."

"Exactly. Come here." Clark holds his arm out and rolls onto his back. Lex settles in his arms, still wide awake, ready to take notes.

"It's a paradox," Lex mutters against Clark's skin.

"That's life," Clark says simply.

Lex licks Clark's nipple because it's right there, begging to be licked.

"I love you."

"I know," Clark whispers.

Lex smiles. Then relaxes. After a minute, sleep begins to tug at him. He feels beautiful and alive and lucky. Like he's been saved, and saved again. Sometimes, when they're like this, he can see the Lexes that Clark sees. The good Lex. The kind Lex. The generous Lex. The trustworthy Lex. It's a strange thing seeing yourself through the eyes of someone who loves you unconditionally, no matter what you do. Lex thinks if he can just keep looking through Clark's eyes, he might become those men. He might be worthy of this: falling asleep, protected and sane, warm and comfortable, loving and loved.


End file.
